Sweet Dreams
by MistressDarkness
Summary: Sam has been having horrifying nightmares every time he closes his eyes. Dean thinks going on a hunt will help clear his mind. But nothing ever goes as expected for the Winchesters
1. Chapter 1

-1"Aw come on Sammy, a little fun never hurt anybody." Dean grabbed his leather jacket, swinging it on with ease.

"You're seriously going to say that in our line of work?" Sam stared back incredulously. He let out an 'I can't believe you' sigh, leaning back against the supposedly clean motel pillow.

Dean rolled his eyes, "That's my boy, always the pessimist." He grabbed the keys to impala off of the nightstand. "You know where to find me if you need me." Turning to leave, he had to get in his final thought. "Don't wait up for me," he winked.

The youngest of the two Winchester brothers just ignored the last comment. Like he would wait up for Dean anyways. He was going to be out drinking all night and probably trying to get lucky with the ladies. Nothing new. Not that he could blame Dean though, not with everything they've been through lately. If the eldest could enjoy himself for one night, then let him. He's been through Hell, literally. Not many people can say that. Who knows, maybe Dean will win a game of pool and earn them some money. It would be nice to use a legal form of currency for once. It wouldn't matter much with how many money frauds they must have against them by now.

Sighing, Sam rolled over on his side. In their line of work, sleep seemed to be rare. Take it when you can get it. Then again, sometimes sleep was worse; like when Sam used to have nightmares about Jessica, when Dean became trapped in his own dreams, when Sam had his visions. Unfortunately, it was going to be one of those nights where sleep didn't come easy.

The boy tossed and turned, trying to get certain images and thoughts out of his mind:

_Dean's body ripped to shreds._

'_Your brother was counting on you'_

_Dean's screams echoed through the night as the hell hounds dug into him._

'_He always looks out for you and the one time he needed you to be there for him, you let him die.'_

Sam turned his head, his face contorted in emotional pain. "No..."he whispered into the darkness of the cheap motel room.

'_How could you let him die? How could you send him to Hell?'_

_Deans' body lay motionless, blood pooling all around._

'_He sacrificed himself for you. You're the reason he made the deal. How does it feel to be your brother's killer?'_

"NO!" Sam screamed, bolting upright. He quickly scanned the room, taking in his surroundings. Realization came back to him; it was only a dream. He let out a huge sigh, leaning up against the headboard. He put his head in his right hand. "Shit," he mumbled, slipping his hand off of his face. He stared at it for a minute, watching the sweat droplets run down his skin before slamming his fist into the headboard so hard it left a small crack in the wood. Grimacing slightly as the pain ran through his nerves, he swung his legs over the side of his bed, bracing himself as he stood up on wobbly legs. He made his way over the bathroom to splash some cool water onto his face. He leaned on the sink, water dripping off of his face. He fought the urge to smash the mirror as well. He didn't need that kind of bad luck to follow him around as well. God knows him and Dean smashed enough mirrors to last them a lifetime when they went after Bloody Mary. He smiled faintly at the memory. Dean always had a comment for everything.

Dean. His face hardened again. This wasn't the first time he had dreams like this. Of course he had them right after Dean had died, but they slowly went away with time. Ever since Dean had come back, they had returned with a vengeance, slowly getting worse and worse. At first he was afraid it was his visions coming back, but that thought quickly left his mind after he realized he was seeing the past, not what was going to happen. Still, no matters how many times he had this dream, it was still unnerving to watch his brother be torn apart in front of him while he could nothing but watch.

"Sam?" Dean asked, noticing the bathroom light was on. "Sammy?" He rounded the corner, "what are you doing up?"

Sam squinted into the darkness to see his brother approaching him. He hadn't even heard him come in; these dreams must be affecting him more than he thought. "Nothing, just getting some water."

The eldest eyed him suspiciously, "Well it seems you missed your mouth there kiddo," as he watched the droplets fall from his little brother's face. His smile slowly faded as concern replaced it. Even though it was a small lie, Sam had still lied to him. Why would he lie about something as insignificant as to why he was awake at this hour? Then it hit him. His face went completely serious, "Sam, was it a vision?"

Sam turned quickly and stared back, "No no, nothing like that. You know I don't have those anymore anyways." That had caught him off guard a little.

"Just checking. Ya never know, especially since your physic abilities have…advanced."

The youngest let out a huge sigh. He knew that would come up again eventually, "Dean-" he began.

"Save it Sammy, I didn't bring it up to argue with you." He turned around, heading towards his bed. For once, Sam was glad Dean cut him off mid-sentence. "Come on, back to bed. We're heading out in the morning."

A small nod was given in reply. Sam winced against the pain in his head; maybe that wasn't such a good idea. As he laid down to sleep, the gruesome images assaulted his vision every time his eyes tried to close. "Hey Dean?"

A mumbled "hmmm?" came in reply.

"What are you doing back so early from the bar anyways?"

He cracked one eye open, "I got sleepy." He turned over hoping to leave it at that.

That was an obvious lie. Curiosity overtook the boy, "Yeah right. What happened?" Another mumble came in response. "What?"

"I got kicked out. Now go to sleep!" Dean pulled the blanket over him in a swift motion, trying to act annoyed.

Sammy smiled. Leave it to his brother to get kicked out of a bar. Who knows what he did this time.


	2. Chapter 2

-1Author's Note: Hey guys, once final are over I can update more often. Until then, the quickest way to get me to update is to read & review. I see people have read it, but reviews really motivate me to write (even when I should be writing bout bio instead of SPN). Enjoy!

This is set in Season 3 right after the Halloween episode.

**Chapter 2**

"Sun's up and you're not, let's go Sammy-boy."

Ugh, that voice sounded too cheery. He pulled the pillow over his head. Dean heard a muffled "Five more minutes."

"No way, you can sleep in the car. We've got about a 6 hour drive ahead of us." Dean threw Sam's bag on top of his sleeping form, receiving a loud "oof!" as a response. A smirked crossed the older man's face.

Oh man. What a way to start the day. Sam pushed his bag off of himself, slowly crawling out of bed. Another sleepless night. He rubbed his face before locking himself in the bathroom. He was just thankful Dean hadn't chucked the weapons bag at him instead.

Ten minutes later, the boys were on the road. Dean hit the highway, hoping to make good time before rush hour traffic set in. He glanced over to see his brother dozing off. Why was that kid so tired lately? "What's wrong with you?" he stated bluntly. He was never one to beat around the bush.

Sam snapped out of his daze, "Huh? Oh," he rubbed his eyes. "Nothing, just tired."

"You're always tired. For the past two weeks you've been nothing but tired. And honestly? You're not much fun to be around like this. You're worse than a girl PMS'ing."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Yeah thanks."

'_You make his life miserable Sam, even now. He'd be better off without you.'_

His eyes grew wide. That voice, the one from his dreams. Why was he hearing it now?

From the driver's seat, Dean looked over and saw the youngest looking startled. "Seriously? You can't even take a joke anymore?"

Hearing his brother's voice brought Sammy out of his thoughts. Crap, Dean thought he was mad at him. Nothing new, but it makes for one hell of a car ride. Sighing, he leaned back. "So what's in Vermont that's worth checking into?" he asked, deciding to change the subject.

"There's been an alarming number of deaths in a little town. There's no connection between any of the victims except that all of them have come from this area. And they're not dieing in the normal fashion. They've all been suicides. Each death was different."

"How many is an alarming rate?"

"12 in total. People of every gender, race, age and economic status."

"I don't know man, are you sure this is something for us to look into? Are you sure it's not just regular suicides?" This didn't sound supernatural. Odd yes, but supernatural?

"Yeah, just trust me on this. I got a lead through Bobby. Definitely not normal. Especially with this many people. Let's just check into it okay? If it's nothing we'll skip town." Dean wasn't positive this was the type of job they would be able to solve, but he needed something to get Sam's head back in the game. He was spacey and out of it lately. Maybe if they had a job to focus on he'd come back to his senses.

Sam still looked skeptical. "Alright, we'll check it out," he said exasperated. It's not like they had much to do otherwise.

_Dean's body lay cold and broken on the ground._

'_What a shame he had to die.'_

_Blood. Everywhere. He couldn't escape the sight of it._

'_This would have never happened if it wasn't for you.'_

_All he could see was red. No matter where he turned, blood red._

'_Sammy Sammy Sammy, why'd your brother bite the big one again? Oh that's right, to save your pathetic ass. What a waste.'_

_He couldn't hold it in any longer. Sam turned around as all the contents in stomach emptied out onto the floor._

'_Ew what a mess,' the voice taunted. 'You should really learn to control that.'_

Dean heard a slight cough coming from the passenger seat. "Oh hell no, Sam wake up!" he yelled at his brother, trying to snap him out of his dream state. The boy hacked harder. "Don't you dare puke in my car!" he yelled as he skidded to the side of the road, leaning over to throw the passenger door open just as Sam lost his lunch. The eldest held him up so he wouldn't fall out of the car. "Easy Sammy. I got you." He reached into the glove compartment to pull out some napkins. "Here, get yourself cleaned up." He held out a bottle of water. Sam took it gratefully, gargling and spitting out the liquid. "No more tacos for you, those things look nasty coming back up."

Sam leaned back into the seat. "Oh god," he moaned. "Please don't mention food right now." He closed his eyes, trying to dull the pain pulsating behind them. "Ugh. I will take a tictac if you have it though, I hate the aftertaste of this."

Dean fished the box out of his pocket and tossed it over. "And I hate the smell it leaves behind on your breath." His brother shook a couple out, tossing them back like pills. "So what brought that on?"

Sam shrugged slightly, "maybe food poisoning?"

'_Food poisoning my ass you guilty piece of shit.'_

The boy's eyes snapped opened immediately. He instantly regretted that as his nausea returned full force.

"Aw shit," Dean recognized the signs instantly, grabbing his brother again to hold him up. The boy leaned out the door again, only to dry heave. "Get it all out. Let's just get a room for the night. I'm sure the motion of the car wouldn't help your stomach calm down any."

Using the last napkin to wipe at his mouth, he turned to face Dean. "No, let's keep going. I'm fine. I can sleep just as well in here as I could in a motel bed." Well that was definitely true because he couldn't sleep anywhere at the moment.

That was it, the final straw. "Fine my ass." Sarcasm laced his voice. "Why won't you just admit that something is wrong? I can see it Sammy. You haven't slept well for weeks now and you've been giving me nothing but excuses. And don't even try to tell me they're not excuses because I know you too well."

Busted. Sam was too tired to argue anyways. He sighed. "Okay okay. I've been having nightmares." Dean snickered at this with a mumbled "obviously." Sam focused on ignoring his brother's attitude. "But I was being honest when I said they weren't visions."

Dean noticed his hesitation, "Then what are they?"

Sam's head turned to face the driver, "They're nightmares, of your death."

This caught Dean off guard. Of all the things he was expecting, that definitely was not on the list. He was thinking more along the lines of crazy psychic powers or demons entering people's dreams. "What do you mean?" Stupid question, but he had no other response.

"I see you die Dean. Over and over. I watch the hell hounds rip you to pieces just like the day it happened. And no matter what, there's nothing I can do about it." His voice faltered unintentionally.

"That's what has been bothering you?" Dean hated knowing he was the cause of his brother's pain. "Hey, listen to me. I am not going anywhere. I'm back for good. Takes more than a couple of rabid dogs to keep me down." He smirked, resting a hand on Sam's shoulder.

A hint of a smile crossed Sam's face. "I know. Trust me, if I could control it, I would. I don't choose to have these dreams." He wasn't going to tell Dean what was really bothering him, how if the angels pulled him out of hell they certainly knew how to put him back in it. He hoped to God (ironically) that they wouldn't ditch his brother as soon as they were done with him. Could Sam really believe his brother was back for good? No, if he invested himself in that fact, he would only get hurt again. The truth was, he didn't know what to believe. These angels didn't seem to be the caring kind what with wanting to smite a whole town to get one little witch. It just didn't seem right, didn't seem like something God would order them to do. Then again, nothing seemed right in this business.

A hand waved past Sam's face. "Earth to Sammy. Anybody home?" Dean joked, all the while worrying that there was something Sam was still hiding from him. "I'll let you off the hook for spacing seen as though you haven't been sleeping. But I do have one question." Sam stared back curious. "Why did you let me win this argument so quick?"

"Cause you're a pain in the ass otherwise." Dean titled his head to the side nodding in agreement. Sam snickered. "And I figured if you won this argument, then I won the other one."

Dean squinted his eyes in confusion, "And what argument would that be?"

"We keep driving, no motel tonight."

Dean made a grunting noise as a protest but knew it wouldn't get him anywhere. "Ya know I am the driver so technically I could just drive to a motel and make you stay there."

"And I know how to hotwire your car and leave you there by yourself."

Dean's eyes widened, "You wouldn't."

"Oh yes I would," he smirked, enjoying every moment of it. Both knew Dean wasn't concerned about being ditched; he was worried about his brother driving his car.

More grunting, "Bitch."

"Jerk."


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note: 3 finals and an 8 page paper left to go. Too bad this fic couldn't count towards my 8 page paper, I'd be done by now. Oh wells, read and review please! enjoy, this chapter is twice as long as the others :)_

_**Chapter 3**_

_Dean strode over to the crossroads demon. Sam couldn't make out the words, but it was obvious what they were talking about, him. Well technically both of them._

'_Correct boy. This was the exact moment,' she spoke as Dean kissed the demon, 'Your brother sold his soul. For you. But of course, you weren't around to stop it. You left him to wallow in his self pity. And like your father, do something stupid. You're his one weakness Sammy. And alllll the demons know it too. Sammy Winchester, the boy who should have died long ago. You would have made a nice addition to Azazel's army, but then ironically, you would have been the one to kill Dean. That would have made for a munch better story actually.'_

_Sam finally found his voice, 'shutup. That would never happen.'_

'_Oh hun don't kid yourself. Once Azazel was done with you, you would have had no control over yourself and you know it. I'm not voicing anything you haven't already thought about to yourself.'_

Sam jumped up quickly, making Dean jump in the seat next to him. "Damn it Sam, don't do that. Gunna give me a heart attack." He put a hand to his chest. He thought better of his last comment a little too late, realizing he shouldn't have said that if Sam was still dreaming about his death. "Anyways, we're here." They pulled into a motel parking lot. "I'm going to go us checked in, you want a water or something from the lobby if they got it?"

Sam shook his head slowly, trying to clear his mind. Unfortunately his dreams left him feeling a little hungover. His thoughts immediately went back to his dream once Dean had shut the door. So he could talk back in his dream now huh? That was new. Actually just about everything was new except for the voice. Now he was dreaming about events farther into the past, when Dean sealed the deal. At least he wasn't watching him die anymore. That last sentence the voice spoke though, he couldn't get it out of his head, _'I'm not voicing anything you haven't already thought about to yourself.' _Stupid subconscious. Why do people need to sleep anyways? He opened the door to the impala and stepped outside into the sunlight, squinting against the rays. The East coast was always pretty in the fall. Something beautiful in this dark world they lived in. He glanced up to see Dean heading back. They got their bags out and went inside room 13. Sam stared at the room number for a second. Of course, an unlucky number, how fitting.

Dean looked over to his brother, lost in thoughts again. Poor kid. At least he got two hours of sleep this time before waking up. He was hoping to drive around town a little longer to let him sleep. In honesty, they had arrived about 25 minutes ago, but Dean thought it would be best to keep driving around so Sam could get some rest. "I'm going to go grab us some coffee from the gas station across the street. We've got plenty of research to do before the day is done. I'll be back in ten okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," Sam said as the oldest of the two left the room. Coffee would be a big help and would keep him from having those awful nightmares. He grabbed his laptop out from its case and began typing away at the keys. "Bingo. The first suicide in the town of New Haven, Vermont was a girl named Jennifer McDain." He skimmed down the page, reading off random facts and writing them on paper as he went. "Age 12...lived with her family…no major disasters…"

_Sam watched himself laying on his apartment bed at Stanford. "Oh shit…"he whispered. He didn't want to relive this memory again, no not again._

'_Jessica. So gorgeous, so smart, so much going for her. Then she met you.'_

_Blood dripped off of the ceiling. Sam looked up from his body, watching the droplets fall like raindrops from the sky. He stared at the familiar face, his Jess. This should have never happened._

'_You're right about that. She had a good future. She was set for the rest of her life. You were never meant to leave your family and meet her. You ruined everything.'_

_The fire erupted out from her body, engulfing the entire room. Sam couldn't help but scream for her, "JESS!" his voice echoed his past self. "NO!" The only difference was Sam's voice sounded more broken now. "No…"_

'_She was burned alive. All she wanted was for you to come home to her, to live a happy normal life, and you dragged her into this. It's too bad. Not only did you kill her, but her whole family will now suffer for an eternity after losing their beloved relative.'_

_Sam's eyes turned red and glossy. He couldn't argue, the voice was right. As much as he wished it wasn't, he knew the truth._

_The scene changed; Sam's mother was burning on the ceiling of his nursery._

'_Ohhhh' the voice cooed, 'this was a good one. Isn't that your mom Sammy-boy?'_

_Sam's head snapped up instantly at the word 'mom'. "Oh god…" his voice was barely audible above the roaring flames. "No more, please." He shook his head._

'_Trying to protect you once she found out your daddy wasn't the one in your bedroom. So sad really, she would have never had to die if she didn't intrude. But Azazel was after you, she died trying to save you, just like your brother. Amazing how everyone you have ever loved dies, even moreso how it's all connected to you.'_

"SAM!" Dean shook his brother hard. "Sam wake up now!" Sam was moaning in pain in his sleep, screaming out random words. "Come on!" He heard Jessica's name. This can't be good. Not if he's having nightmares about her death again. His body started shaking on its own. "Shit Sam, just wake the hell up already!!" Finally losing it, he slugged Sam across the face.

Sam fell out of the chair from the force of the impact, coughing from the ground. He took deep gasping breaths. Dean kneeled down next to him, picking him up into a sitting position. "Are you okay?! What the hell happened?! I was only gone for ten minutes!" Dean couldn't help the edginess that mixed into his worried voice.

The youngest stared up into his brother's scared eyes. '_You're his one weakness Sammy.' _"ugh, what?" Sammy tried to get his thoughts straight again before answering Dean. "I…I fell asleep?"

Dean looked dumbfounded, "How did you not know you fell asleep? You were screaming Sam."

He tried to think, and that's when it all came back to him. Jess. His mother. Dead because of him. His eyes turned red and glossy. Unconsciously, he raised his hand to face, dabbing at the wet spots starting to escape through his eyes. Tears. Since when did Sam cry? He looked up at Dean, seeing the shock in his face at the water slowly dripping down. He quickly brushed the few lone tears away, not wanting to see Dean's pity for him. He was stronger than this. What the hell was wrong with him?! He was acting like they were kids again.

Dean was already worried, but the tears scared him. Sammy never cries. He holds it in, just like Dean. They're more alike than either would like to admit. What did he see this time? "Sammy? Please say something."

"I…they're dead Dean."

At least he was talking, but the words he spoke didn't ease his fear. "Who? Who's dead?"

Just as sudden as Sam's defenses had been broken, he built them back up again. "No one, it was just another dream." He slowly pushed himself up out of Dean's arms, pulling his body onto the bed closest to him.

"You are the worst liar I have ever met," Dean told him. "Look Sam, I'm not doing this to be nosey. You're starting to worry me. This last nightmare of yours? I couldn't wake you up for 3 whole minutes." Three minutes may not seem like much, but to Dean, it seemed like an eternity in that moment.

Sam seemed to be surprised by this new information. Dean couldn't wake him up? Great, now no one could keep him from watching those memories he wished to keep buried down deep. "That's news to me. Maybe I was just in a deep sleep."

"You were in a deep sleep after only ten minutes? Not likely."

"It's likely since I haven't had a good night's rest in a long time," he griped his head again as the pain pulsated.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just need that coffee. And some pain killers."

"For your head?" he asked inquisitively.

"No, for my jaw," he said, stretching it out. "Do me a favor and next time try a bucket of water before hitting me," he smirked.

Dean grinned back, "Sorry kiddo. Gotta do whatcha gotta do." He passed over a cup of coffee and two advil gel tablets. "So did you find anything while I was gone or just pass out?"

Right, the case. He had almost forgotten. Sam rose from the bed to sit back in his chair by the laptop. He handed over the piece of paper with the details about Jennifer McDain.

Dean's eyes almost popped out of his head, "WHOA! This girl was only 12 and she committed suicide?! I didn't even know what suicide was at that age. Well okay I did cause of our weirdo lifestyle but normal kids don't," he tried to justified.

Sam squinted at the laptop screen. "Yeah and that's not all," he stated, staring unbelieving at the computer. "Dean," he began seriously, "she was the first of the suicides and this only happened 3 weeks ago." He looked up to meet his brother's eyes.

Dean stared right back, "12 suicides in 3 weeks? That's almost one every other day!" he shook his head in disbelief, "Still believe this isn't our kind of case?"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. We need to figure this out Dean, these are kids that are dying." He scrolled through the other teenagers that had died. "Wait, look at this." His brother walked around to stare at the screen, leaning over Sam with his arm propping himself up off of the desk. "There's a pattern. The ages of the victims goes up by 1 year every time someone dies. Jennifer was the first at 12 years old. Chloe Jayl was the second to commit suicide at age 13. Peter Chester was the third at age 14 and so on."

"So you think someone is killing them for some kind of ritual sacrifice?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded, ignoring the pain it caused. "I think it's time we go talk to the families." He scribbled down some notes. "It'll be quicker if we split up to cover as many of the relatives as we can since there are so many." He handed over another piece of paper with addresses and names. He pushed himself up out of his chair, stumbling a little as he walked. He subtly leaned against the table for support.

"Whoa whoa, Sam. Take it easy," Dean grabbed him just incase he stumbled again. Despite Sam's efforts to look normal, it was no use. Dean knew him inside and out, including how he tried to hide his pain, especially when it came to solving a case.

Sam tried to shake off Dean's help. If they were ever going to solve this case, they needed to go now. "I'm fine. We need to find out what is going on here before someone else dies."

As much as Dean wanted to tell his brother no, he couldn't argue with his logic. "Yeah I know." He ran his hand through his hair. "Do you need me to drop you off anywhere?" The kid could barely stand, Dean hated to think about him either driving or having to walk to the victims' houses. Sam nodded slightly, too busy wrapped up in own thoughts. He just followed the oldest out the door.

McDain. Sam stared up at the house in front of him. He closed his eyes, sighing, trying to push back the pain in his mind and heart. He needed to focus. Straightening out his collar to his officer uniform, he walked up the steps to ring the doorbell. A woman opened the door looking puzzled. "Mrs. McDain? Good morning ma'am. I'm Officer Chris Starr," he flashed his badge.

The lady slowly shook her head, "I'm sorry officer, I already spoke to the police." She proceeded to close the door in Sam's face.

He quickly stuck his foot between the door, "I know miss, and I am sorry to have to do this again, but we may have found a new lead in this case."

Mrs. McDain looked beside herself. "A new lead? A new lead?! I don't know who you think you are but there are no leads in a suicide case. Now please get off my property." She pushed Sam's foot out of the way with her own, slamming the door.

Sniffles could be heard from the other side of the door. Sam's heart went out to her. He couldn't imagine losing a child. God knows he has lost enough loved ones.

_They didn't have to die Sam. They could have lived happy normal lives. Then you came along. Imagine that._

Sam grabbed his head as flashing images of fire consumed his vision. He held back a grunt. Not now, not now!

_Demon boy. No matter how many people you try to help, no matter how many people you try to save, you can't ignore what you are._

Wrong. It had to be. It didn't matter what the voice said, Sam was determined not to let anyone else die on his watch.

_You can't save people Sammy. You'll be the death of them._

He ignored the words being fired at him, instead focusing on the situation at hand. "Mrs. McDain, I know this is hard for you." He took a deep breath to alleviate the pain in his voice. "You must know of all the other suicides incidents in town. You don't want what happened to your daughter to happen to any other children, do you?" Seconds passed. Click. The door slowly swung open to reveal the distraught mother. Is she even considered a mother anymore? Jennifer was an only child. Again his heart ached for her. She motioned for Sam to enter. "Thank you." The house was small, but very comfortable. She escorted the officer to the living room, offering him a seat as she sat down across from him. "I'm really sorry to have to do this, but can you tell me about her Mrs. McDain?"

She nodded, "Yes. And my name's Elizabeth, Liz actually." Taking a deep breath, Liz continued. "My daughter was only 12 when it happened. She was always so happy and carefree." She smiled, "she always wanted to be a doctor because she said she wanted to help others."

A puzzled expression crept onto Sam's face.. Those were no the typical signs of a depressed or suicidal child. "So she had a happy childhood? No unhappy memories that could have brought this on? Nothing at school?"

A tear slid down the woman's face. Sam automatically grabbed a tissues from the box on the table and handed it to her. "Thank you." He nodded in response. "No sir, nothing like that. My husband and I are still married. We've never had any trouble. He works as a teacher so he loves kids and knows what goes on in school. She always got A's in all of her classes. So eager to learn," her voice cracked.

Reaching over, Sam placed a hand over hers for comfort. His voice was soft yet confident, "We'll figure this out, I promise you. I won't let this happen to anymore children."

Dean knocked on the door and waited. Impatiently. 1313. That seemed like a lovely address. He knocked again just as the wooden object slid open. Clearing his throat, he spoke, "Good day Mrs. Jayl, I'm--"

That was as far as he got before he was cut off mid-sentence. "I'm not Mrs. Jayl sir. I'm Ms. Samuel. The Jayls moved out of the state about a week ago." She studied him in his police uniform. "Shouldn't you know that already officer?"

Dean was still flabbergasted that this woman had interrupted him. He shook his head clear, blinking a couple times. His tone turned defensive, "Well yes I would if I was a real officer. You didn't let me finish. I'm a costume salesman." He popped the collar on his jacket. "Call me if you need anything for Halloween." His footsteps sounded as he quickly strode away and around the corner.

The lady stared bewildered after him. "But I don't have your number!" she called. He was already out of sight before she could finish. "Weird…" she whispered as she stepped back inside her new home.

Dean stared back towards the house. One failure. He took out the slip of paper, "next house 20135 Thirteenth Avenue." This was going to be a long day.


	4. Author's Note

Hey everyone, sorry to do this. I know you were all expecting a new chapter. Unfortunately for the past month or so, my computer has been not been working properly. I have 2 more chapters typed up and ready to go on its memory but I can't get to it. I tried the other day to post it real quick, but my computer shut itself down to "protect memory" before I could even get on to this website. I'm still trying to get it up and running. I just don't want you all to think I have ditched this story because I still have plenty of ideas for it. Sorry again, the next update you get will be a new chapter.

-Amber

(Mistress Darkness)


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